Of One Lost and Found
by autobotjolt101
Summary: When the sparkling of Prowl and Jazz is presumed dead, only an unknown stranger has the answers they're searching for.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I'm kinda having a bit of trouble with Stereo Hearts so I'm hoping that this will maybe help me get more creaitive

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or anyone of their awesome characters. I only own the plot.

**Warning: There's just a bit of sad part; mystery too I suppose. Anyway, I hope you read, enjoy, and comment!

* * *

"_Carrier, Sire, no! You can't leave me. Please!" She wailed, coolant running down her small face. Her tiny servos grabbed hold of her sire's pede, doing little to tug him back. She pulled with all her might but ended up falling back on her skid plate._

"_Moonracer, she _will_ be safe in your care won't she?" Her sire asked, demand and concern etching his tone as he picked up his sparkling and settled her back onto her pedes._

"_Yes, sir. We will do all that we can providing-" Firestar was cut off as a powerful blast was shot not too far away from their position. The miscellaneous debris flew everywhere, scattering after hitting another solid form. Chunks of what used to be a building flew in their direction, the mech shielding his sparkling with his body._

"_Providing that the Decepticons do not harm the youth sectors." She finished. Her blue optics glanced down to the tiny frame gripping onto her sire's leg for dear life. The small frame shook with fear; it was a sight that she had grown used to seeing._

"_Thank you, Moonracer." The femme nodded in ascent at his words. Turning away from the femme, the mech dropped down to one knee so he could be optic level with his only daughter. His mate standing behind him, hand resting on his shoulder._

"_Now, Moonracer here is going to keep you safe. Listen to her and do not disobey. She and the other femmes will protect you. Stay strong, little one."_

_The small sparkling shook her head, revealing more coolant building up. "N-no, Sire. Don't leave me-e." She exclaimed, forcing herself into one last hug._

"_We must. To keep you safe." He whispered in her audio._

_She dug her tiny helm into his chassis, reveling in the feeling of his warm and safe spark._

"_We need ta go now, sweetspark." Her carrier crooned, placing a hand on his mates shoulder._

"_No! No! No!" She spluttered, latching onto her sire's chest tighter._

"_Baby Girl, it's time ta let go."_

"_No!" She screamed again as she felt unfamiliar hands pry her away from her creators._

"_It'll be alright. I promise." The stranger crooned._

"_No!" She cried out again, this time earning the silence of her creator's backs. She wriggled her body in the tight grip, getting nothing in return. Finally, she let go as she watched the two walk away, leaving her behind in the care of strangers. A final tear ran down her face as it was too late to run from the incoming missile._

* * *

Blue optics onlined abruptly peering at the door that led to the rest of the hangar. The room was dark despite the fatigue glow of the regret filled optics. Fear brimmed the glass that protected the blue light. Within the shared quarters, two separate systems ran: one whining with the tension of stress, the other carefree and running the course of recharge.

Prowl listened to his mates systems run accordingly. He also listened as the comforting noise seemed to be disrupted by his pounding spark threatening to break its casing. He brought in a ragged breath, attempting to calm himself down like he saw the humans do. He also attempted to clear his processor of the nightmare that happened fifteen centuries ago. When Prowl had shuttered his optics, the precious face of his daughter reared her sparkbroken face. The coolant staining her face and her optics flickering from the sobs that drained away her energy.

Shifting slightly, Prowl found Jazz's silver arm draped over his abdomen, holding him in place. He felt the saboteur's chest plates touch his back ever so slightly, being mindful of his doorwings. His mates facial plating was nuzzled deep within his neck cabling, finding comfort and security within the heat of his Energon. He felt the warm air cycle through his parted lips, tingling his sensors.

Prowl raised his optics to look up at their ceiling. The many constellations that hung in the night sky above Praxus was now painted above their helms, courtesy of Sunstreaker. Peering up at the mural had brought back memories of when his family sat outside and watched the night sky together. He remembered when he and Jazz had watched her wish upon her first shooting star. _Cre'tors, I wish for us t' be toget'er always_. She had said, tugging on Jazz's digit. Prowl smiled at the memory, ignoring the fact that a lone tear had run the length of his face plates.

"Prowl," Jazz called. Prowl jumped at the sound of his designation being called. He turned his helm to the side to meet Jazz's optics. His visor had retracted, revealing all the concern for his bondmate. Jazz had called Prowl's name three times now, that being the third time. A nother set of dull peaceful optics lit up the dark room, fatigue pulling at the soft lips that performed a slight frown.

"Yes, Jazz," Answered Prowl in his usual monotone voice.

"Hey, babe; ya a'ight? Ah've been callin' your name an' ya hav'n't answered." Jazz explained, stifling the urge to yawn.

"Yes. I have just been…thinking." Prowl breathed.

Jazz lifted an optic ridge. Perplexed to say the least. He knew Prowl had thought hard at times, but Jazz had always gotten him to respond on the first try.

"'Bout," Jazz pushed.

"Nothing to concern yourself with, love. Just old memories."

Jazz wasn't convinced of his statement. Rather, he knew what and _who_ he was thinking about. It wasn't uncommon for his bondmate to wake up in the middle of the night from recharge thinking about their creation. Jazz knew just how much the loss of her had impacted Prowl. He knew just how much Prowl regretted leaving her with Firestar on that orn. And he knew just how much Prowl…blamed himself for her death.

"Ah miss her too," Jazz whispered into the darkness as he snuggled up next to Prowl, peering up into the ceilings mural with him.

* * *

_I am Optimus Prime; and I send this message to any surviving Autobots taking refuge among the stars. We are here; we are waiting._

Elita One looked down onto the small blue and green planet. She was currently stationed on the moon with her team: Chromia and Firestar. They watched the debris float around in this planets orbit. Satellites beeping hear and there; almost like Red Alert's security cameras. She watched one of them pass, her following its movement. Beside Elita, Chromia and Firestar.

The two femmes walked up next to their leader. Excitement in their blue optcs. The three had listened to their Primes message three times; this being the third. They reread the coordinates attached, remembering the location.

"When are we headed out?" Firestar asked. She inclined her helm to the small planet before them.

"Yeah, when do we get to see our mechs?" Chromia added with a wink.

"Soon," Elita responded to both their questions. Her optics wondered back to glaze over their destination. Her femmes would be able to see their fellow mates and old partners soon. She would be able to see Optimus Prime. Relief coursed through her circuits at the fact that her own mate was alive and well. But that reunion could wait; for now, she had duties to take care of. Quickly snapping back into commander mode, Elita turned to face her small squadron.

"Have you contacted the Autobots?"

"Yes," Firestar replied quickly. "I have informed Red Alert of our position and when we would be arriving. Prowl has been notified and in return notified Prime."

"Good. Any Decepticons close to us?"

"Nope, the scanners didn't pick up anything. And even if they did I'd blow 'em up to slag!" Chromia snickered. Her cannons whirring to life at the mere thought.

Elita rolled her optics and placed her hand on Chromia's weapons. "Don't you dare shoot; you _will_ draw attention to us if you do."

Chromia grumbled but did as she was told.

"We leave for Autobot base in one orn. Till then, Firstar, contact Red Alert and let him know we will arrive tomorrow. Chromia, keep your scanners on high. We cannot allow any Decepticon to know of where the Autobots are."

"Yes, ma'am," Both stood at attention until Elita dismissed them, sending them off to their respective duties.

Elita was alone again. Alone to her thoughts. Alone to her plans. Alone to her spark. She peered back out into the dark empty void of space. She turned her helm to the direction of one lone star: Cybertron. The star was bright with hope but as for now, there was no hope. Many members of her team had died trying to protect their home; among them a once trusted comrade: Moonracer.

Elita shook her helm with the memory coming back to her. Moonracer had died trying to protect a sparkling. The sparkling of the second and third of the Autobots. It was the missile of the Decepticons that had taken her young life. The same missile that had killed a sparkling of important leaders in this war. It was that one memory that was the driving force for her to win this war. The driving force to provide revenge for Moonracer and Prowl and Jazz's sparkling.

So here she was, the femme commander wishing for revenge in the bleak darkness of the moon. She stood silent, peering out into space; aware of what her teammates were doing, but unaware of the pair of alice blue optics protruding from the darkness. The optics blinked behind her; their intention unknown but after a few kliks of study, they disappeared without a trace.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Here it is. I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of their characters. I only own my OC and the plot.

There really aren't any warnings other than possibly a tissure moment and sparkling cuteness. Anyway, read, I hope you enjoy, and comment!

Oh, and _italics _are flashbacks

* * *

"_Sire, Carrier. C'mon, I wanna see Unc'e Blue and Unc'e Smokey!" She whined. Her lower lip started to jut out in a pouting manner. Her visor retracted to show eager optics. She started to jump slightly on the balls of her pedes, waiting impatiently for her creators to come._

"_Hold on, baby. We're comin', we're comin'." Jazz chuckled._

"_Noo! You guys are taking too long!" She whined again. She thrust her tiny balled fists down and stamped her foot on the ground. "I wanna go. Noww."_

"_That's enough of that. You must be patient. You cannot expect what you want to come to you if you act like that, sweetspark." Prowl scolded._

_Upon hearing her sire scold her, she crossed her tiny servos across her black chassis and mumbled, "I jus' wanna see Unc'e Blue and Unc'e Smokey."_

"_And you will, but for now you must remain patient." Prowl said, smiling down at his creation. He offered a small thoughtful smile and in return she gave him a halfsparked shrug. She kept her face hidden, hiding her embarrassment no doubt. Her doorwings drooped after a small irritated twitch._

"_Aww, baby. It's a'ight. Sire here," Jazz nudged Prowl with his elbow and snickered. "is jus' sparkless."_

"_That is not true!" Prowl snapped; his doorwing hiking higher onto his back._

"_What'd you do this time, Prowl?" A chipper voice suddenly asked._

"_Jeez, Prowl. Makin' your own kid cry?" Another voiced._

"_Unc'e Blue! Unc'e Smokey!" The small pouting sparkling cried out._

"_Hey, there kiddo." Smokescreen chuckled as his niece latched onto his blue foot. He bent down and picked her up, nuzzling her tiny violet chevron with his own yellow one._

"_He's mean aint 'e?" Jazz chimed in._

_Prowl smiled and tickled his daughter with a digit. "Jazz!" Prowl snapped. "I am not; I was merely providing discipline to her impatience."_

_Their daughter giggled and latched onto his digit, nuzzling it. Smokescreen, who was holding her, chuckled at the sight of his older brother interact with his niece._

"_Do you think he's mean, sweetspark?" Smokescreen asked._

_She shook her head, her small doorwings rising in excitement. "Sometimes, but I love my Sire anyway!"_

* * *

"Prowl!"

Said mech raised his helm at the sound of his designation being called. His doorwings rose unconsciously, he didn't know he had let them droop from his professional 'V'. Faded and stressed optics rose to see concerned blue optics of his brother staring back at him. Smokescreen stood in front of him, his doorwings painfully hiked up onto his back. Behind him stood Bluestreak and the Twins.

"Prowl, what's wrong?"

"I called you name three times now and no answer."

"Is everything alright?"

Prowl stared back at the bots in front of him, not bothering to cover up his pain. He met all four pairs of optics. Smokescreen watched intently, concern lacing within the white iris of his mechanical optics. Bluestreak was fearful for his older brother, his body rigid. Although he wouldn't admit it, he was afraid that Prowl would commit suicide from the loss that he and Jazz had suffered. Though that thought was planted within the dark regions of his processor. The last were the Twins. Sideswipe was mated to his younger brother and was fearful for his emotional health. He watched with good intentions of making sure Prowl was okay; his brother on the other hand… Sunstreaker was a different story. The mech was known for his lack of emotion. His stance provided no care of what was happening but his optics betrayed his outward appearance.

Prowl blinked a few times, reapplying himself to his painful reality. "Y-yes; everything is fine. I apologize for scaring all of you."

Bluestreak shook his helm, slowly then to a more rapid movement. Smokescreen glanced down and shared a look. Soon after they had nodded in a synchronizing manner. Smokescreen turned his helm back to Prowl, locking onto his tired optics.

"Nothing is fine, Prowl. I can tell; Primus, Blue can tell. Tell me what happened."

Prowl shuttered his optics and shook his helm slowly. "The date," he replied before walking down the opposite direction. He left the group stunned, silence draping a powerful blanket over them. It was Sunstreaker who finally broke the silence.

"The date? What the frag does that mean?"

Bluestreak looked over his shoulder at his golden bondmate. He swallowed down his pain and tried to answer him without his voice shaking. "I-I'll tell you later. It's best to leave Prowl and Jazz alone today, for their well-being."

And with that, Bluestreak and Smokescreen went their respective ways, leaving the Twins dumbfounded.

* * *

Optimus Prime sat in his office reading over the message that Red Alert had handed him. Elita One and her femmes were headed here in a few vorns. Whilst reading over the message, he couldn't help but feel the jolt of hope leap within his spark. Now he knew that his bondmate and his comrades mates were safe; there was no worry to plague his mind and no doubt to grow. Optimus smiled at the thought of knowing the news of his own creations as well. Hot Rod and Arcee…his creations. _His_ creations.

Then as quickly as it had come, the smile faded. _His creations_. Optimus pushed that very thought away from his processors. He couldn't help but feel guilty at the thought that his own creations were alive and fighting for their freedom. It was very few of the Autobots who knew what today's date held. As far as Optimus knew, only Ratchet, Ironhide, Wheeljack, Blaster, Red Alert, Bluestreak and Smokesceen, and he himself, knew of the great loss of their second and third. It was this war that had taken their sparkling's life at such a young age. Optimus felt guilty at the thought of having his own creations while another couple didn't. But the last thing Optimus needed to do was to feel sorry for himself. Selfish.

Optimus sighed and shuttered his optics. He set down the datapad that he had been reading and dropped his helm into his awaiting servos. He couldn't shake away the painful screams of his two commanding officers. He and Ironhide had to hold Prowl back from running back out there. Ratchet had sedated Jazz after the silver saboteur had knocked out Wheeljack with a punch.

"_Prowl! No!" Ironhide had grabbed hold of Prowl's upper arm, not letting go._

"_THAT'S MY SPARKLING! NO! THAT'S _MY_ SPARKLING!" The Praxian had tried to shake away Ironhide's grip only to no prevail. Instead, his struggles became more violent. His body starting to pull free of the weapon speacialist._

Optimus shook his helm again. Those three words ringing throughout his processor. If only he himself understood the pain that left Prowl vulnerable.

"_Prowl! You cannot go back out there! It is too dangerous! You will provide targets to more innocents." Optimus had said, putting forceful hands onto his comrades shoulders._

_More innocents. _Those were the key words that had started it all. The key words that had caused Prowl more pain than he needed. The key words that had caused Prowl to think of his sparkling's death as his own fault. How ironic; Optimus strived to offer a reasonable persuasion as to not to go back out there, instead he caused a pain that will never subside.

_As if the words were magic, Prowl stopped struggling. He looked into the sympathetic eyes of another father. Optimus knew how much a father could love their creation, his optics longing for a change of spark. It was his sparkling; his _only_ sparkling._

_Optimus drew in a breath. "I am deeply sorry, Prowl." He had said in a strained voice. "But you cannot go back out there, you will cause more harm than good."_

_Prowl gave no response, no overly dramatic reaction. Instead, he dropped to his knees and looked out into the smoke and debris. Eventually, after he had enough of the current situation, he buried his helm in his hands. His white doorwings dropping low onto his back, his body wracking with sobs. All Optimus could offer was a comforting hand on his seconds shaking shoulder…_

"Sir,"

Optimus jumped from his designation softly being called. He collected his thoughts and emotions so he could bottle them up for later. He withdrew his now shaking servos away from his helm so he could look up at the mech respectively. The mech that appeared before him had startled him.

"Yes,"

"Elita had informed us that she would be arriving quite soon. I just found it upon myself to let you know, Sir."

"Thank you."

Optimus watched as the mech nodded before turning around to leave the office. He shuttered his optics and sighed before calling him back.

"Wait," He called while standing up, he walked over to the mechs position.

"Yes, is there something else, sir?" The mech turned around slowly, doing everything he could to look presentable.

"I-I'm sorry, Prowl. I do know that you and Jazz hear this too often but I truly am sorry."

Prowl cast his faze to the floor, providing a cold and sparkless smile in return. When he lifted his optics back up, they were ice. "Sir, the last thing we need is your sympathy or your apology. I appreciate your concern, but what's past is past. Now, if you will excuse me, Sir."

And with that, Optimus watched as Prowl walked swiftly out the office door.

* * *

"_Look, baby." Jazz pointed to a shooting star that made its round above Iacon. She looked up to the sky, a huge smile lighting her face, out ranking the stars. The three sat on the hill in their backyard. Jazz sat next to Prowl who wrapped his arm around his mates shoulders. Their daughter sat between them, poking her small little helm between their waists._

"_Wha's that, Carrier?" She asked, crawling on top of Jazz and Prowl's shoulders._

"_It's a shootin' star, baby."_

"_Wha's a shoo-shooting star?"_

_Jazz chuckled at her word trouble and kissed her on the cheek._

"_If ya see a shootin' star, ya make a wish."_

"_Really?" When she saw her carrier nod with his thoughtful smile. She returned an excited smile, and with that, she closed her eager optics to wish upon the star. When she reopened them, she hugged Jazz's neck and kicked her feet in the air._

"_Wha' did ya wish for, baby?" Jazz asked quietly, looking at Prowl who smiled softly._

"_Cre'tors, I wish for us t' be toget'er always." She giggled, snuggling into her carrier's neck once again._

* * *

Jazz blinked away the coolant that pooled by his optics. He shuttered his optics in response to his emotions, doing his best to drown out the bubbly laughter that echoed hauntingly through his processors. He held back a small whine that threatened to escape. Jazz reached up to wipe away the trail but stopped short when he felt a soft hand stop him. He turned his dull visor to the left of him to see Prowl look at him with glassy optics. Jazz could see that Prowl was struggling to hold his emotions in.

Prowl formed his lips into a flat line, hiding his hurt. He held Jazz's shaking servo in his own. He held the ligament softly in his grasp as he reached up and wiped away the tear. He kept his hand there, cupping Jazz's cheek in a silent reverie. He ran his thumb over the smooth metal of his bondmate, leaving behind a strand of hope with each touch. He felt the familiar pressure as Jazz pressed his face into the warmth provided. Only did Jazz pull his cheek back as he looked up to the sky. Prowl did too to see the three new arrivals they all waited for.

In the night sky, three glistening flames made their way to the provided coordinates. Their shimmery orange and yellow aurora captured the excited optics of all, awaiting the company of the femmes. Optimus stood stoic, his spark betraying his outer appearance. He kept his optics upwards, waiting to see the beautiful optics of his own bondmate. His servos held eachother behind his back, fidgeting impatiently. Beside him, Ironhide held back the temptation to whir his cannons on in utter excitement. He held his large hands on his black hips, waiting for the opportune moment to show off his new weaponry. Inferno held his glistening smile to the sky, his optics burning a brilliant blue in the night. In his grip, Red Alert stood paranoid. His sensitive audio horns sending flares of electricity into the night. He clung to Inferno tightly; some might think he was trying to meld his sleek red and white frame with that of Inferno's.

The Autobots watched in silent amazement. Optics followed the trail left behind, being sure to capture the very beauty of how their kind arrived. The streams of metal streamed behind, following the fragile protoform within the protective metal casing. The thunderous sound of the air merging back together after the speed was incredible. The echo was enough to tease their wires with arousing vibrations. The three had formed a triangle in the sky, the first one touching the crust of the Earth first. Each one had fallen side-by-side gracefully, earning the eager step forward of the four mechs.

The metal had dug deep beneath the dusty dirt; the soil uprooted and flung miscellaneously everywhere. Dust covered the ground and the dark night scenery, providing no way to see the newly landed bots. Debris covered the large pedes of the Autobots who stood in front. The deep navy blue of Optimus's legs became a dusty Catalina blue. Ironhide and Red Alert's were a lustful silver, shimmering beneath the stars above. Finally, Inferno's became a dusty rose, shading the lower half of his sleek frame.

Clicks and whirs echoed throughout the silence that was drawn out. Buying the attention of the eager Autobots. Minutes later, the metallic beauty had ended, leaving the eager audio receptors waiting.

Silence.

Suddenly, a slim fitted Cybertronian followed by two others stepped out of the dust. Their colors ranging from a dark shimmering pin, to a deep crimson red, to finally an innocent baby blue. They all simultaneously saluted to their Prime, standing stock still.

"Optimus Prime, Sir; Elita One,"

"Chromia,"

"And Firestar, reporting for-"

Firestar was cut off as yet another protective casing had landed behind them. The three arriving femmes ducked away from the debris. Soon everyone followed suit as they ducked as well to shield themselves away from the dust yet again. Mechanical sounds echoed throughout the night, filling the other bots with curiosity. Silence spread its blanket over the group again.

Chromia sprung up, pushing her commander and comarade behind her as she fired up her own cannons. Ironhide did the same thing, coming up next to his mate. Jet black commented the innocence of the blue as they stood close together. Their optics locked briefly before they returned their attention to the dusty future. Their cannons hummed when the trigger whined for relief.

"I knew it! I knew it! They weren't alone, were under Decepticon attack!" Red Alert screamed, pulling out his blaster and aiming it into the dust. He clung closer to Inferno who watched him with an incredulous look.

"If it were a Decepti-creep, Red. They woulda fired at us already." Inferno drawled.

"Inferno's right," Optimus agreed, laying his large servo over the shaking blaster. He turned his brooding optics into the dust. "Show yourself."

Nothing.

That was before bright alice blue light peered out from the dust. Everyone stared, not sure what to think of the bright blue. As no one made a move to fire at the stranger, the light retracted to show two optics, the light hard with an unknown intention.

Everyone stared silently. The weapons still waiting patiently for their trigger to be pulled.

The optics glazed over the tense and frustrated stances, locking with each one with familiarity. They glazed yet again over to Jazz. They softened with sympathy ever so slightly. As fast as the emotion had came, it disappeared; but it oddly replaced with a hard glare once they reached Prowl.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I'm sorry that this came really, REALLY late but I was kind of pracastinating it. I couldn't get any ideas in my head and unfortunately it's the same with Stereo Hearts (which I'm currently _trying_ to work on). But please be patient with me. And sorry that its so short...

Rating: T. As of now, the rating will not spike unless otherwise.

**Warning: No warnings really just a tissue moment. But besides that; please read, enjoy, and comment. I'll try to work on this faster so you can continue with this :)

* * *

"_Pleeeaaase?" She stood up on the balls of her pedes as she focused her large optics on her creators. Her small little hands were clasped together in front of her as she pleaded for an affirmation._

"_I pr'mise tha' I'll be good," Her persuasions were innocent, cute even. It was the same expression that sparklings her age used when they wanted something. Their lower lips trembled and their optics released the small amount of innocence that they knew buckled their creator's knees. With this knowledge, they used it as their secret weapon._

"_Pleeeaaase, pretty, pretty pleeaase. Wi'h En-Energon on top?" She started to bounce on the balls of her pedes, her small black doorwings bobbing with her actions._

_Jazz chuckled at the action. His hands were placed on his hips in an attempt to show authority. His poor show had ended short when his amused chuckle had slipped. Beside him, Prowl stood with his servos crossed over his chassis. A sigh escaped the stoic mouth that harbored gentle curves at the ends. His right doorwing flicked at the chuckle created by his mate. With a patient hand rising up, Prowl pinched the bridge of his pristine nose with his foredigit and thumb._

"_Aww, c'mon Prowler; she jus' wants to play wit' 'im." Jazz nudged Prowl with his elbow as he tore his optics from his daughter to the mech beside him._

"_That is what I am afraid of, Jazz. I do not trust the fact that it will just be the two of them. There are so many problems that can arise and I do not wish our daughter to be apart of that conflict. My battle computer has summed up the percentage and I must admit that the numbers do not look too good." Prowl mumbled. His optics remained shuttered as he kept his decision making private._

"_Don' get all logical on meh now, babe. They'll be fine, Ratch'll keep an optic on 'em."_

"_I am quite sure that Ratchet will; however, I still do not approve the idea of the two of them roaming around his med. bay. Ratchet will most likely be busy repairing mechs who have been injured by their own stupidity, or by the riots that have been breaking out lately."_

"_You're forgettin' one thing, babe; Ratch is gonna haveta keep an optic on tha two of 'em. After all, Perceptor _is_ his son."_

"_That fact remains true, but still…" Prowl countered as he opened his optics and looked down to the small sparkling before him. Her own optics pleaded for approval from her sire seeing that she had already gotten it from her carrier. Promises to her word glowed from her small face as did her trembling lip component. She was desperately awaiting the final decision with an amazing amount of patience that wouldn't last long; a characteristic she had received from Jazz._

_With a final sigh in defeat, Prowl allowed his servos to fall delicately to his side. His doorwings had lowered the slightest bit as they realized that he wasn't going to win. A small smile graced itself on his faceplates while his optics became soft. Jazz was right, Ratchet would watch after both her and Perceptor. There was nothing to worry over; perhaps he was overreacting._

"_Alright, it seems that your carrier and I have agreed to allow you to go. But-"_

_A high pitched squeal cut the tactician off. His optics widened at the decibel that was reached before he winced at the enthusiastic volume. A small chuckle escaped his mouth as he felt small servos wrap around his white pede. He looked down to see a precious little black sparkling hook onto him. The corners of his mouth curved up the slightest bit more as he dropped down to one knee so he could see his sparkling optic-to-optic._

"_But, you must behave yourself. Please listen to whatever it is that Ratchet tells you. And you mustn't get into any mischief."_

"_An' say 'please' an' 'thank you'." Jazz added, placing a gentle hand on that of his bondmates shoulder._

"_Yes, please be polite. Are these terms understandable?"_

_She nodded with a small eager smile. "Yes, Sire. Thank you,"_

"_You are very welcome, little one." Prowl murmured quietly before he placed a chaste kiss to the base of her small violet chevron. "Be safe."_

"_An' have fun, baby girl."_

"_I will. I love you, Cre'tors." She called over her shoulder just before she disappeared behind the corner leading to the med. bay._

"_Love ya too, sweetspark." Jazz murmured into the vacant hallway._

* * *

The mysterious optics cast their bright blue beams through the fading dirt clouds. Their gaze was glazed with a stoic ice that allowed no trace of emotion to seep out. Each pair of optics was studied and labeled. Each bot stood stock still as they waited for the dust to finally clear; and when it did, they were all shocked to see what stood on the other side of the dusty partition.

The bot was shorter than Jazz in height. The armor smooth and fitting nicely over the slender body. Green pedes the gleaming color of emerald were dusty as the dirt had cleared. White doorwings with a single black stripe on each flickered in annoyance as they graced the thin spinal column. Crowning the top of the pearly white body, bright blue optics shone out into the night. An emerald chevron with a gold base was slicked back over the white helm as single helm finials reached for the sky on either side. The tip of an alice blue visor poked out just above the optic ridges. An unfriendly and serious mouth frowned as the bot was finally revealed.

"What is your designation?." Optimus ordered as he himself cocked his blaster and was ready to shoot when needed.

The blue optics softened slightly with thoughtfulness before hardening into the cold sheet of ice again. The mysterious bot peered up at the one who had spoken before bowing politely; crossing one arm over the slim torso and the other gracing her back.

"Allow meh to introduce myself." A stern voice spoke. It was light and feathery with a small tint of street slang; similar to Jazz and Blasters but not quite as strong. The small voice held thick laces of resentment, hurt, and anger. The traces were quickly found and left the others to wonder why they were present. But above all else, the voice belonged to a femme.

"Ruler of all Cybetron, Optimus Prime, sir; Autobots second an' third-in-command, Prowl an' Jazz. Ah am Battery Charge. Ah bring news an' possibly an asset to the fight against the Decepticons."

"What is the news?" Prowl asked, running a thumb over his mates hand that was currently in his."

"As you may know, the tragedy regardin' a youth sector administrator, Moonracer, an' a five vorn old sparklin' has been reported dead fifteen centuries ago."

"We all a'ready know tha'. Tell us somethin' we don' know!" Jazz snarled.

Battery Charge flinched at the sudden outburst. Her doorwings lowered as she shrank back a bit. Flicking in disapproval and a tad in agitation, her doorwings hiked up once more into a relaxed 'V'. She vented out before resuming.

"Yes. Ah do realize that _that_ part of the news is nothin' new an' it was tragic, but that is not my point. Please be patient with meh an' hold your interruptions until the end." Battery Charge stoically pointed out. The blunt comment had drawn a growl from Jazz in return and a frustrated glare from Prowl. Both Autobots had to hold themselves back with an astonishing force of self-control.

"Continuin', currently housed in the Iacon Medical Facility under the care of Fist Aid an' Perceptor, Moonracer is recoverin' from stasis. Her frame has suffered greatly an' her spark is just now respondin' to the treatment given. A comrade thought lost is now returnin' and once she is granted clear, she will be joining you here on Earth."

Silence ghosted over the group as the news set in to their processors. There was no sounds that echoed in the night, no movement or a shuffle of the pedes. It was news that was originally though tragic now a miracle.

"Oh, thank Primus." Elita breathed as she rested her graceful servo over her spark. Optimus smiled thoughtfully and pulled his beloved mate to his body. His own servo snaking around her magenta waist.

"'Racer is gonna make it? She's gonna…live?" Chromia asked hopeful. Her optics glittered as bright as her paintjob as she took a step closer to Battery Charge. Instinctively, the latter femme took a small step back, her doorwings lowering as she contemplated other things on her processor.

Battery Charge nodded to Chromia with a shadow of a smile. It was small but vanished after what else she would have to deliver.

"Yes, ma'am. Moonracer will continue to function."

"That's great!" The blue femme exclaimed.

"And…the sparkling…?"

Batterfy Charge lowered her helm and doorwings respectively as she turned to Prowl and Jazz. Her hands shook as they held themselves, desperately trying to calm her racing spark and adrenaline down. Her bright blue optics darkened a shade before she turned her helm to the side. She was fearful to meet the stoic and hard optics of the second and third.

Battery Charge met stoic optics as well as hard ones. Her mouth formed a hard line as she vented slowly. Looking down at her servos than back up, she shook her head slowly. Every other bot fell silent as the harsh blow was delivered.

"Ah-Ah'm sorry. The frame was never found. The search party that was issued had only found Moonracer beneath the rubble.


End file.
